


Shirley Temple

by legendarytobes



Series: culinary advice [3]
Category: Lucifer (TV), Miranda (TV)
Genre: Crack, Crossover, Fluff, Gen, Humor, crossover crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 13:52:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19465351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legendarytobes/pseuds/legendarytobes
Summary: A surprisingly young patron shows up at Lux, and Gary stops Maze from serving her Jack Daniels instead.





	Shirley Temple

**Author's Note:**

> This is around 1.10 "Pops" for Lucifer and months after 2.04 for Miranda and "A New Low."

**Shirley Temple**

Gary was used to a lot by now at Lux. The codes of conduct were non-existent and Ms. Smith and Patrick tended to do _that_ on every flat surface or up against any wall they could. He’d scrubbed the stove four times over when he’d found them rutting on it like a couple of rabbits. He’d also put in an order for a medical grade autoclave to clean the cutlery because the patrons really didn’t want to know where some of it ended up. But, right, really needed the job so he didn’t ask questions or put up a fuss. Just cleaned up the mess behind his manager, whom he really had begun to suspect was hellspawn.

Maybe not literally.

But she’d clearly never managed a kitchen before Lux’s.

He’d never expected to walk into the bar area before opening and find Ms. Smith shoving a shot glass of whiskey with a cherry in it towards a girl who couldn’t be more than eight and having the gall to call it a Shirley Temple. He sprinted across the bar and yanked the glass back from the girl’s hands before she could sip it.

“Blimey, Ms. Smith, you can’t do that. We’ll get shut down.” _Not to mention it’s crazy and wrong, but I gave up with using logic on you a long time ago_.

Ms. Smith regarded him, and he gulped. Lucifer scared him, but Ms. Smith might have scared him even more. The way she spoke…her delusions…she was a woman who wanted to bring the pain and, so far, he’d managed not to give her a reason to do that to him.

“Fine, you get your way.” She nodded to the little girl who, now that Gary’s shock had abated he could actually notice she seemed dressed like a pageant queen wannabe, and shrugged. “You’ll get a real Shirley Temple now, but if you come back, ask for me. You can call me ‘Maze.’”

The girl looked between both of them and giggled. “I will! I can’t believe you used to be a zoo keeper. That is so cool.”

Ms. Smith shrugged and sauntered back to the staff area, leaving him alone with the little girl. The little girl who had instantly hopped off the stool and rushed behind the bar to hug him.

“Lucifer! Maze said you weren’t here.”

_Oh right, this again._

Most of the staff had figured the confusing _Parent Trap_ stuff out quickly enough, and within two weeks, there hadn’t been much confusion between him and Lux’s owner. It was aided immensely by the fact that Gary actually did work around the joint and Lucifer well…he was entertaining and a good act for the club, but more often than not, he was either on a case or upstairs in the penthouse having other types of fun. Also, okay, it wasn’t like Gary owned any suits that cost more than most people’s rent. That was a big give away too.

“I’m not…he’s not,” Gary struggled to correct. “I’m the cook here. My name’s Gary Preston, and if you could maybe step a bit farther away from the alcohol, I can make you a Shirley Temple. The oven’s not fired up yet, but I could scrounge you up since crisps too if you want.”

“What?”

“Sorry, right,” he corrected as she got back on her stool. He hurried to the soda dispenser and whipped up a Shirley Temple heavy on the syrup and extra cherries. He smiled as he slid it to the little girl. “Potato chips. We have some of those, if you’d like.”

She shook her head and sipped her drink. “Wow, that’s really good!”

“I try.” He frowned and started cleaning the bar top. “Who are you? Where are your parents and why are you looking for the boss?”

“I’m Trixie, and my mom and grandma were fighting so I took an Uber here. Lucifer cheers me up.”

Gary’s mouth fell open. The idea of his boss---who was distinctly creepy and imposing underneath all his schtick---comforting a child blew his mind. “He does?”

She nodded. “Are you his brother?”

Gary snorted and scrubbed the bar harder, really got the elbow grease into it. “Assuredly not.”  


“You talk alike.”

“He’s more posh than I am.” But he figured explaining the difference between upper crust British boarding school type and middle class at best from Surrey was too complicated for Americans. Most couldn’t tell British from Irish from Scottish, and that was just annoying. “Although, when I first got hired, I did honestly wonder if we had some distant cousin in common. It doesn’t seem so, but I can understand the confusion. So, Miss Trixie, do you need me to call your Mom? Does she even know you’re here?”

“She does,” the woman storming in was determined, frank, and had a severe expression on her otherwise lovely face. Gary blinked and tried to figure out why she looked so familiar even as she gasped at him. “Lucifer, that’s, uh, quite a look.”

He rolled his eyes and held out his hand. “I get that _a lot_. I’m the chef here. Gary Preston. No Lucifer and I aren’t related. Yes, it’s weird. Mostly, I think Ms. Smith just found the whole thing funny but here we are.”

The woman blinked at him. “Huh?”

“Oh no, I must have broken your brain. We’re not related. You know that old saw about how everyone has a doppleganger out there? True enough in this case.”

She nodded. “Well, okay then. I’m Detective Chloe Decker. I work with him.” She shook her head. “It’s pretty uncanny, well, except the outfit.”

He glanced down at his crocs, baggy pants with red chili peppers on them, and his white chef’s apron. A few errant and annoying curls were already falling into his eyes tonight. “What else would you wear in a kitchen if not something that’s comfortable?”

“Good point.” She turned her focus to the little girl and squeezed her tight. “Monkey, you can’t just use my phone like that. I’m going to be changing my password, and we’re going to have the longest talk later about what you did. You can’t just scare me and grandma.”

Trixie nodded and sniffled. “I hate when you and Grandma fight over me. I wanted to see Lucifer.” She frowned back at him. “But I made two new friends. Maze was funny.”

Gary hoped for everyone’s sake that Trixie didn’t mention her first drink to Detective Decker. They really needed not to get shut down or even investigated for serving alcohol to children.

“Maze really is something,” Detective Decker added. “Come on, monkey, I’m going to get you home, and then we can get some rest. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, but if you do want to act with Grandma, you can.”

Trixie shrugged. “It made her happy, but I don’t like the dress. It’s itchy.”

The detective’s expression hardened and she nodded. “I’ll have a long talk with Grandma tomorrow while you’re at school.”

“No yelling at her?”

“I promise.”  


Trixie frowned and stuck out her hand. “Pinkie swear.”

The detective nodded and shook on the deal. “Pinkie swear. Now, let’s get home for chicken fingers, okay?”

Trixie squealed at a decibel that made Gary shudder and hurried to the stairs. “Yay!”

“No running!” Detective Decker gave him one more look over. “So weird, but I guess everything at Lux is, right?”

“You have no idea, Detective Decker.”

“Chloe’s fine. And thank you.”

“How so?”

“I have no doubt you’re the one who actually gave my kid a drink that’s child-friendly. I’m lucky Maze didn’t give her a shot and a few switch blade. She’s like this crazy ninja.”

_Ninja? Add another one to my list…_

“Well, no problem. I suppose I’ll see you around, Chloe.”

**

It was almost a week before he saw Chloe again. She walked into the Lux at three p.m. on a Tuesday and just as (a slow) happy hour was starting. She wore jeans and a plain, soft blue sweater with her hair down. Since he couldn’t see a badge on her belt loops, Gary assumed it was all an indication she’d come off duty.

“Detective Decker…um, Chloe,” he fumbled. “What can I get you? Are you waiting for Lucifer?”

She shook her head. “A beer, whatever’s on tap and on special is fine. I have off today, but, honestly, I had some questions.”

He shrugged and poured her a Guinness. Then, hurrying to the kitchen, he whipped up the latest appetizer he was playing with and set it down for her.

  
She poked at it and frowned. “What is it?”

“Haven’t named it yet, but it’s a mix of tomato slices and fresh mozzarella on one side and beats with goat cheese on the other of the plate. Locally sourced. We have onion rings and the regular stuff too if you want, Ms. Smith insisted. I can do the ‘fancy crap’ if most of it is pretty on par with everything else.”

Chloe eyed the dish curiously and shrugged. “Cheese stuff’s fine.”

He shook his head. Maybe Miranda had been right and people all over only cared if food were cheap (or free) and available, not so much about pedigree.

“Lovely, then you’re ready to eat.” He turned back to the bar deliberately, under the pretense of making sure all the bottles were restocked and ready. Gary damn well knew they were; he’d done it himself an hour ago.

“I wasn’t kidding. I know Lucifer’s at therapy today, and I wanted to just…”

“Pry?” Gary asked, still focusing on the labels before him.

“Get a feel on things. You’re not related? Really?”

Gary rolled his eyes and turned to Chloe again. “I know Americans get so confused about things, but different accent ring a bell? I expected Trixie not to notice, but you’re a detective. Besides, I asked him the same thing myself cause it’s a bit mental, but he swears his family is much farther north, whatever that means.”

Chloe deflated at that. “Oh.”

“Sorry, if you’re looking for the great secret behind all of Lucifer’s weirdness, then I don’t have much. I also don’t like to shoot my mouth off about my employers.”

“I wasn’t…”

“You were.”

She shrugged and ate a slice of tomato with mozzarella on top. Then, she moaned just a little. “Wow, this is really good. What’s on top of it?”

“A bit of vinaigrette, but I made it myself, added a few secret herbs to make the mozzarella pop.”  


“And here I thought cheese was just cheese.”  


“You probably eat yours orange and out of a plastic envelope.”

She blushed. Oh, he’d caught her, hadn’t he?

“Well, I’ll definitely remember to order this if I have any down time back here again.” She sighed and pushed a strand of errant hair back over her shoulder.

Gary knew she was pretty, although she wasn’t his type. He didn’t really have one as far as looks went. He dated widely and always had. It was more about the sense of humor and adventure in a person. Girls who were up for anything or, frankly, were as immature as he was. The detective was gorgeous but all business, all the time. It was the last thing he’d have wanted. Of course, the first and only person he did was furious with him and probably always would be.

“Good, nice to have my work appreciated.”

She frowned again. “I’m sorry I tried to put you on the spot.”

He shook his head. “No, you’re not, but it’s that cop thing, right? That laser focus on a case? You’re looking at the boss like a puzzle to solve, which I can understand. He’s the weirdest bloke I’ve ever met. I just don’t have anything to help you with. Not really.”

She arched her eyebrow at him. “Not really?”

“Well, if he’s your partner, then you know he has that desire thing he does. He just looks at you and you’re confessing your deepest and darkest like it’s the most normal thing in the world.”

Chloe shrugged and took a bite of the goat cheese this time. “I’ve seen him do it on suspects a lot. He can’t do it on me, though. I wasn’t sure if it was a trick or like he’s a part time hypnotist or what the deal is.”

“Doesn’t work on you?”

“No…wait…did he mojo you?”

Gary blushed and shifted down the bar to polish off the till. “He pried too much. I’ve never ever felt anything like it. Sent goosebumps up my spine, just so odd. That’s honestly all I know.” _That and the obscene, health code violating amount of shagging that happens in every corner of this place._

“Well, at least I know that the hypnotism thing…that when it happens to people it feels like something. I just never got why people fell for it, but I did Google about it, and sometimes some people just can’t be hypnotized. I guess that’s me.”

He nodded, unconvinced. Whatever Lucifer had done that one time; Gary had felt it, deep down like a surge of electricity up his spine. It wasn’t some bloody party trick, that was for sure. “Great, then it’s not exactly busy yet, but if you need anything from me, I’ll be getting the rest ready. This is the easy period. You know us, we go till three a.m., and I’m on shift for the full thing. Ta for the food compliments, Chloe.”

She watched him a bit, he caught her glancing at him every so often as he did inventory and brought out drinks and nachos to the first patrons straggling in. But she didn’t try and grill him for more information. He was grateful for that. Gary had nothing else to give, just the things he filed away and poked at on long mornings after work before he passed out to sleep. Lux was weird. Lucifer even weirder, best to leave it at that and not think too hard on.

Chloe eventually called him over for a refill, but it must have been almost an hour later, once she’d eaten through her cheese plate. Sipping the next bit of Guinness eagerly, she quirked her head at him. “Why are you here?”

“Traveling,” he said, noncommittally. “Work VISA for a bit, and I was a chef back in England. I appreciate the challenge of doing bar food on a third, new continent. Done Asia too,” he clarified.

“You’re good at it.”

“I don’t think you can judge a man by cheese alone.”

Chloe chuckled, and she did seem to loosen up with a (very) little alcohol in her. Gary could see what clearly had Lucifer fascinated since the nice and law abiding seemed far from his boss’s normal purview. She just wasn’t Miranda, and it wasn’t her fault for that. And Miranda was the only woman on his mind, had been for months and months.

“Then, I hope you come by more often. Need someone who appreciates my experiments. Ms. Smith calls them a fancy waste of time, and Lucifer isn’t an eater as much as an inhaler of Scotch.”

Chloe frowned at that. “I am sorry to hear that. He has a flask on the job too. Sometimes, I worry about him.”

Gary thought about being sized up more than once by Lucifer like a gazelle before a lion. He didn’t think Lucifer was exactly weak or defenseless either. “I’m sure the boss can take care of himself.”

“That I can, Preston,” Lucifer said, striding into the club in a forest green suit with a bright silver pocket square.

Gary shook his head. One of the weird side benefits of working at Lux was that he had a preview of what he mostly would have looked like in outfits he could never hope to afford. Answer---like an utter wanker.

“Hi, Lucifer,” Chloe said, taking another swig of her drink. She was a full pint and a half to the wind or not much.

Lucifer arched an eyebrow between both of them, and then focused his attention on her. “Did I miss something? Is there a new case?”

“No, just came here for happy hour.” Chloe giggled again and from the shock on Lucifer’s face, Gary interpreted that as a sign that Chloe wasn’t usually this jovial.

Who had ever heard of a cop who couldn’t hold her liquor?

“Well, right then. I suppose you wouldn’t want to join me for something more exclusive up at the penthouse. I have some vintages up there I don’t share with the club. Besides, I wanted to…after everything at Pop’s and the explosion, I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Explosion?” Gary asked.

Of course his boss, ostensibly just a night club owner, had been involved in an explosion and was more casual about it---as if it happened all the time---than he was about getting a drink with Chloe. Seriously, what the fuck?

“It was more a fire?” Chloe hedged. “I kind of passed out cause of the smoke, but Lucifer got us out.”

“And it left my forearm and favorite suit worse for wear.”

She reached out to Lucifer’s right arm, and Gary watched as his boss nimbly dodged her entreaty. “Are you really okay, Lucifer?”

“Drinks, upstairs and we’ll just make sure we’re both only so shaken up. After you, Detective.”

Chloe nodded and headed to the private elevator that led to Lucifer’s apartment a few stories above.

Lucifer didn’t follow her step for step but waited until she was out of sight to turn to him, and Gary was positive that something bright and red was flashing through his boss’s eyes. It wasn’t just in his head this time. “Preston, you still heart broken about that bird who got away?”

He nodded, throat tight and heart jack hammering in his chest even as Lucifer’s eyes grew as brown as his own. “Miranda. I miss her dearly. I…we were only talking, boss. Trust me, Chloe’s not my type. I don’t like the serious ones. Never have.”

Lucifer seemed to calm and laughed genuinely at that. “Yes, no one would mistake the detective for anyone free-spirited or less austere.”

Gary sighed and remembered a caterpillar-duck toy race long ago. Austere would be the absolute last word to describe Miranda. Okay, maybe after “appropriate.”

  
“Again, not my type.”

Lucifer quirked his head more severely at him, and it reminded Gary in that moment like a bird of prey. Then he had to tamp down the hysterical and crazy idea of Lucifer with wings that just popped into his head then. “So, Preston, one day maybe you’ll show me this bird of yours, that great love of your life. I think I’m curious, and that’s very rare for me.”

“Maybe, boss, but best not to leave Chloe waiting, right?”

There was that slight flash again, and Gary wanted to rush back into the kitchen as soon as he could. “Well, Preston,” Lucifer said. “Have a good evening.”

“Thanks.”

His boss turned toward the elevator but still called over his shoulder before he got there. “I meant it, you know. Consider it a deal. You and Chloe stay off the table, and I’ll help you with your Miranda problem. Deal with the Devil and all that.”

“I…I have to think about any deals,” Gary replied.

Lucifer stopped and eyed him one last time. “You _are_ a complicated one, aren’t you? How delightful.”  


As Lucifer rode the elevator to his place, and, thankfully was out of sight, Gary finally relaxed, letting out a long sigh. His muscles unbunched, and he took a quick shot of Vodka to steady his nerves. A deal with Lucifer Morningstar was the furthest thing from delightful in his mind. No matter how much he missed Miranda, no matter how much he just wanted to go home, he wasn’t going to take the offer.

It could only lead to perdition.


End file.
